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Static covers the screen as a Play symbol appears in the bottom right-hand corner.

One Year Earlier. 

Arcadia.  A place of great beauty and great horror in equal amounts. The way people live here varies, but Zeus himself lives in great luxury. His home is a veritable place – covered with gold and white decoration.

He moves throughout his home, stopping at what was once his fathers’ bunk. The name Cronus adorns the door. Zeus opens it and steps inside, looking around. A voice startles him from behind.

“You’re finally going to do it, huh?” The voice asks. It’s a strong, deep, stern voice that you’d not mistake if you knew it.

Zeus smiles.

“The people are restless,” The Baron replies. “I need to give them something.”

The man enters alongside Zeus – he’s muscular, black, and wearing battle armour. It’s Ares. 

“Perhaps Cronus holds the answers,” Zeus continues. He walks further into the room and takes a golden key from his pocket, using it to unlock a case on the wall.

He takes a moment upon opening the door, peering inside the safe.

What lies there is a large leather backed book with the words ‘PROJECT OSW’ written on it, etched beautifully atop the cover.

“What’s this?” Ares enquires, looking on with great curiosity.

Zeus places the book down upon the table below the case and opens it, taking a quick read inside. As he does, a smile begins creeping across his face.

Jackpot, it seems.

“It was their plan,” Zeus remarks with a chuckle, rifling through the pages. “Old School Wrestling, they called it. There are plans here for Events, Championships and more. Everything you’d need to build a place where the people could be entertained.”

Ares smiles too.

“What do we need to do to realize it?” He asks, hands on hips, ready to jump into action.

Zeus thinks for a moment.

“Get me Hephaestus. The first thing we need to do is utilize these blueprints to create something special; Olympus,” he says with a nod. “After that, we need to talk with The Pantheon.”

Ares nods in agreement and exits the room, leaving to find Hephaestus. Zeus is left behind, smiling whilst flicking through the pages.

Old School Wrestling,” he muses. “Just what Arcadia needs.”


 The Present – The eve before Clash of the Titans.

Inside a large white room, a big table sits in the middle with room with multiple chairs around it. Before long, masked, and cloaked figures enter the room from different directions, led in by Ares.

Finally, Zeus – aside from Ares, who is the only other unmasked person, enters to the head of the table.

“Great Pantheon members, Clash of the Titans is upon us,” he says to a roar from the group. They slam their hands down on the table in support, making loud celebratory noises. “Olympus has been built by Hephaestus, using the blueprints left behind by Cronus. Ares has recruited only the best Titans for our games and Hermes has made sure that those from all levels of Arcadia can attend Old School Wrestling if they can afford to purchase a ticket.”

Everyone nods in agreement, each happy with the plans in place.

All bar one.


“Is my threat level strategy in place?” Athena queries.

Zeus looks towards Ares.

“The uprising is still a threat. They’re deploying misinformation and propaganda and will undoubtably have a Titan inside Old School Wrestling. This is by design, do not forget. Your strategy called for it. I’ve recruited numerous of those we believe could be members of the Uprising. I’ve prepared Dossiers on all these potential threats and our strategy will be to use Olympus and Old School Wrestling to seek them out, just as you’ve strategized Athena.”

“And once we find them?” Poseidon asks. “What of the Council members not here. Hera, for example?”

“That’s my domain,” Ares quickly replies. “It will be handled.”

Zeus stands up with a big smile, clapping his hands.

“It’s a big night tomorrow tonight, Pantheon,” Zeus says delighted. “Old School Wrestling will open its doors for the first time, as plotted by my father and the elders. Olympus is ready; I am ready. Let’s reconvene after the inaugural event.”




Tonight Ace Lawton investigates just how Drexl came to be the way he is!

Tie up collar and elbow. Lawton twists Drexl’s arm around into a hammer lock and yanks the arm from behind. Drexl snapmares Lawton and transitions into a rear chinlock. Lawton manages to get to his feet and backs Drexl into the ropes, then whips him to the opposite side…

Off the ropes, Drexl ducks a clothesline attempt and bounces off the ropes— KNOCK KNOCK??? NO ONE’S HOME!!! Drexl ducks under the big boot attempt and bounces off the ropes again, but this time hits a running somersault clothesline on Lawton— SPEED DIAL!!

Drexl flashes the jewelry on his knuckles to the crowd, then gives them a kiss— SWIFT KICK TO THE FACE BY LAWTON! Drexl’s dazed and Lawton grapples him from behind— GERMAN SUPLEX! ANOTHER!! DREXL’S GOT A CASE OF THE NOIR CITY BLUES!! Bridging pin— ONE! TWO!! DREXL KICKS OUT!!

Lawton stalks Drexl from behind and grapples him again— ANOTHER GERMAN SUPLEX?? NO!! Drexl backflips out and bumrushes Lawton into the ropes. Lawton sees Mick Gordon and Jackson Cade walk down the ramp, distracting him as Drexl rolls Lawton up into a pin— ONE! TWO!! HE’S PULLING LAWTON’S BRIEFS!! THREE!!!

Drexl steals the victory from Lawton, but it’s the Private Eye who is being arrested by Cade as Gordon stands by munching on a donut!



Club 40.

In a smoke filled room, patrons sit smoking cigars and playing various games of poker, blackjack, and roulette. Colt Ramsey walks confidently through the room, ignoring those who stop playing their games to watch him with an awkward eye.

He finally comes to a stop at the bar, sitting next to Caesar XL – who like everyone else, has a lit cigar in hand.

“Buenas noches, Mr. Ramsey,” Caesar says, pushing a glass and a cigar towards Colt. The glass is half full of whisky. “Salud.”

Both men take their drinks, downing them in one.

“What can I do for you, Caesar?” Ramsey asks, wincing from the strength of the liquor.

“I need your special set of skills, hombre,” XL replies whilst motioning for a file. The bartender passes it over and Caesar slides it across the bar to Colt. “Inside there is a Dossier on all members of the Council. It’s everything I know about them.”

Colt doesn’t dare touch the Dossier, instead looking at Caesar with a raised eyebrow.

“I know, I know, it’s a dangerous game,” he admits. “But I need photographs. I need to see the faces behind the masks.”

Ramsey shakes his head.

“Are you fucking mad? The council would have us both slaughtered for even talking about it. You know they have eyes everywhere.”

Caesar shrugs his shoulders.

“Not here, amiga,” he reminds him. “There’s no eyes here that don’t belong to me.”

“I’m not doing it,” Colt responds sternly, shaking his head. “There’s no number of credits you can pay me to risk my life by taking this job.”

Caesar abruptly stands up, looming monstrously over Colt, who slowly steps backwards.

“People don’t say no to Caesar. You’ll take their pictures and you’ll fill this Dossier with their fucking faces, perro. If you don’t, you’ll answer to me,” he threatens.

The journalist reluctantly reaches over the table and takes the Dossier, marching himself out of the room as quickly as he can.

Caesar watches on before taking a seat back at the bar with a smile.


   tag team championships   

   the lucky charms vs. gemini & kpavio   

Will The Lucky Charms or the team if Gemini and Kpavio be the inaugural tag team champions?

Kpavio and Knick Knack tie up… except Knick Knack crawls under Kpavio’s legs and piggybacks onto Kpavio’s back! Kpavio attempts to ragdoll him off to no avail, and Knick Knack sits on Kpavio’s shoulders before spinning around and executing a hurricanrana! Then Knick Knack snickers as he tags Tallywhack in!

The Lucky Charms Irish whip Kpavio into the ropes and on the rebound Knick Knack hits Kpavio with a drop toe hold as Tallywhack runs the adjacent ropes, then drills Kpavio with a basement dropkick! Cover— ONE— KPAVIO TOSSES TALLYWHACK OFF HIM! On the way down Kpavio locks in JUSTICE!

Wee Tallywhack slips out and clutches to the ropes and Kpavio tags Gemini in. Tallywhack also makes the tag and the two leprechauns rush Nature’s Delight— DOUBLE CLOTHESLINE— NO! Gemini bridges underneath then grabs their heads from behind— DOUBLE REVERSE DDT!! DOUBLE TWO SIDES!! Tallywhack rolls out of the ring…

Gemini Irish whips Knick Knack into the ropes and on the rebound surprises Knick Knack with a codebreaker— SNAPSHOT!!! Meanwhile Kpavio fucking ragdolls Tallywhack into the ring post, nearly killing the wee leprechaun as Gemini covers— ONE! TWO!! THREE!!!

Gemini and Kpavio stand tall as the tag team champions!


   “so saith”   

In the darkest depths of Arcadia, something stands on a rickety podium, looking out across a sea of faces. He looks out into the darkness, his eyes glowing purple.

His name? Grimskull.

“Do you really believe in the freedom that is promised by the Uprising?” He says sternly, with a sense of disbelief.

The crowd don’t utter a word.

“You people are the light of this world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden, nor do people light a lamp and cover it with a bowl. You must let your light shine so that you can guide the way for others,” he says powerfully. “We do this in our suffering. We endure pain so that we and others can be free.

The crowd are undoubtably lapping this up. There’s nodding and murmuring among them.

But not all of them.

“This creature tells you lies,” a voice booms from across the depths. Everyone turns as if upon a march, their feet shuffling loudly across the floor to greet the voice.

It belongs to Vision.

“Pain is not the route to freedom, but a mere facet of gaining true sight,” he announces. “Lowering yourself to Abaddon is not the answer. The Third Eye can show you the way and pain is but one fleeting moment upon your journey.”

Grimskull steps down off his soapbox and begins wading through the crowd, pushing them aside as they part. He finally stands before Vision, who’s flanked by two members of the Third Eye – one either side of him.

“You finally came,” Grimskull says with a smile. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

Vision nods.

“The last time I saw you, you had two eyes and the road to your enlightenment was paved in blood,” The Preacher says. “You see, this man is no saint or savior; he is the warm blanket that makes you feel safe and warm – until it smothers you and burns you alive.”

The Awoken One laughs, nodding in agreement.

“He’s partly right,” Vision admits. “I don’t claim to be your savior. I’m not here to save anyone. But The Third Eye can offer you true sight; a third eye that you can see everything through, including his bullshit. If you come with me, it’ll take just one moment of agony and if you endure it, you’ll be free.”

Both now come closer together, almost nose to nose. As many stand behind Grimskull, others begin pushing their way past in the crowd, walking towards Vision.

That brings a smile to his face, and a grimace to Grimskull’s.

“Do you see that?” Vision whispers.

Grimskull nods.

“The dull-witted will follow you into blindness, Vision,” Grimskull whispers back. “But when I take your precious Third Eye, there will be no place for you here. So, it was written, so it shall come to pass.”

So saith the Grimskull?” Vision replies, to a smile.

The Preacher backs away, waving his followers back to the stage in which he began preaching as those Vision has convinced to leave, take their leave with him.


Recorded Previously.

The Bleak.

Slums deep inside of Arcadia where the impoverished and poor live out their days. Screams echo out from every corner, crimes happening amongst the makeshift structures and homes. An alcove calls to us the viewer where we see a man grabbing a  woman, a knife to her throat as he screams in her face.


The woman cries, pleading with him that she has nothing! The knife presses into her throat and blood begins to trickle as tears fill her eyes.



The man drops to the  ground in a heap, a figure standing behind him with a bloody baseball bat in his hands. He discards the bat to the side, looking down at the freshly made corpse, blood pooling from its head before looking to the woman and nodding towards her.


“You’re safe. For now. I’d recommend you leave while you can, miss.” He speaks bluntly, watching the woman run away and going to take his own leave when a single set of footsteps interrupts him. A chilling voice calls out from the darkness, Kpavio turning around and coming face to face with gaunt, corpse-like man who enters into the tiniest bit of light.

Mannfred Curze.

“What’re you doing in my district?” He speaks with a chilling calmness to his voice, tilting his head as he examines the man in front of him. Kpavio merely shakes his head.

“I’m doing my job. I don’t suppose you’re trying to stop me, are you?” Kpavio speaks back, challenging the newcomer to stop him. Mannfred, however, merely sneers at him.

“Saving those in The Bleak is my role to play, Skull. Leave before you join the death toll.” Mannfred approaches Kpavio with ill-intent, The Skull backing away as he does.

“I’ll leave when people are safe. If you’re their hero? Then they’re going to need me.”


Curze watches as Kpavio disappears deeper into The Bleak, turning his attention behind himself to the many screams coming from the district. Kpavio would have to wait, he had work to do.




Two oddball pairings step into the ring for the first time here tonight. Can they coexist to pick up their first win in Old School Wrestling?

Blacktooth starts things off with Drewitt, running him backwards into the corner with a handful of mask. He immediately starts unloading on him, punching, slapping and kicking him violently. The Devil turns him and whips him across the ring… FRESH MEAT! A LUNGING PRESS TACKLE THAT LETS HIM GET BITEY! He bites away at Drewitt who does his best to cover up, and here comes Jasper Redgrave!

Redgrave leaps over the top rope and lunges forward! COLLAGE OF VIOLENCE! Superkick to Blacktooth! That knocks the Devil from The Explorer! The Artist turns around to be met by Curze! Curze scoops him up into the PACKAGE PILEDRIVER! BAPTIZED IN FAITH! This match is breaking down before our very eyes!

Dr. Death now joins the fray as Mannfred gets back to his feet and LETHAL INJECTION! HANDSPRING CUTTER DROPS THE NIGHT HAUNTER! Destructo Boy is the only one left and ambles into the ring nervously. He swings with a wild Clothesline but misses, hitting the ropes and RUNNING CORKSCREW HEADBUTT! IMPACT BREAKER! 

He quickly gets himself on the other side of the ropes and demands the tag! Blacktooth crawls over, giving it to him. Destructo Boy comes in hot, ducking beneath a swing by Drewitt and FINAL SPIRIT! ROCK BOTTOM! NO! DREWITT ELBOWS OUT! HE SPINS HIM AROUND! CHOKESLAM! CHOKESLAM! ARDUOUS JOURNEY TO THE KID! He covers… ONE…. TWO…. THREE! Drewitt picks up the win for his team!

In a fast and furious battle, Drewitt, Redgrave and Dr. Death pick up the huge debut victory here at CLASH.



Narcissa Balenciaga is strutting down a backstage hallway, preparing for her match with Grimskull later on. Her very gait invites challenge.

This is a strong bad ass woman.

She passes several people, who she pays no mind, until she comes across a young lady taking a picture of moss growing down a wall.


“Do I know you?” Narcissa says.

Gemini smiles, but shakes her head.

“I don’t think we’ve met before, but I sure as heck know you. Narcissa Balenciaga! The finest designer there has ever been! I still wear your old spring collection.”

Balenciaga looks her up and down, but Gemini isn’t done.

“We almost met once.” She begins. “I was catching a nap in a tree…”

“You sleep in trees?” Narcissa interrupts.

“I live in them. No one disturbs you up in the highest branches, though sometimes I wake up on the ground somewhere else.”

The Designer raises an eyebrow as Gemini continues.

“Anyway, I was trying to sleep when I heard a commotion below me. A bunch of APD they chained you to my tree…”

“My glorious exit from court.” Narcissa cuts in. “That’s where I know you from. You freed me from the chains.”

Confused, Gemini shakes her head.

“I fell asleep, and when I woke up you were gone.”

Her face twisting into a frown, Narcissa steps closer to Gemini.

“No.” She mutters. “No. You freed me, and led me away. You said I would be in your debt, and that one day you would come collect. You craved my knowledge of court. I remember your eyes, they haunt me in my dreams.”

Seeing the confusion in Gemini’s eyes, Narcissa seems flooded with emotion.

“You can help me. This beautiful world has been tainted by Zeus and his cronies. Please, let us take this canvas and create a new world. You said you could do that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A sad Gemini responds.

The two women stare at each other, at an impasse. Narcissa breaks first, her upset very clearly displayed on her face.

“After everything I’ve done to get back here, I get stalled here. With the person who I have spent ages looking for?!”

She stalks off, shaking her head. Gemini watches her leave, looking dumbstruck.

“Oh, bother.”



   felix foley vs. vision   

Who’s more hardcore: Felix Foley, or V1sion?

The bell rings and Foley points a kendo stick at V1sion’s head, then runs at him— SWING AND A MISS! Foley takes multiple swings at V1sion, who artfully bobs and weaves before elbowing Foley right in the gut and stealing the kendo stick from the puppeteer…

V1SION CRACKS FOLEY OVER THE HEAD! Foley rolls to the outside and reaches under the ring, pulling out a steel chair and tossing it in the ring. V1sion waits in the middle of the ring as Foley slides back in with a sack… OF THUMBNAILS WHICH HE EMPTIES ONTO THE MAT!

Foley sneaks up on the blind V1sion from behind to only get hit in the stomach with the kendo stick, doubling him over. V1sion surprises Foley using his other senses— BLINDSPOT!! DOUBLE THUMBS TO THE EYES!! V1sion attempts to bring Foley to the mat, but Foley has that old man strength…

Foley lifts V1sion onto his shoulders— AND DRILLS HIM ONTO THE THUMBTACKS WITH A DEATH VALLEY DRIVER!! V1SION BUMPED HIS HEAD!! Foley follows up with a double underhook and pretends to puppeteer V1sion for the audience— THEN DOUBLE ARM DDTS ONTO THE STEEL CHAIR!!! CUT THE STRINGS!!! Cover— ONE! TWO!! THREE!!!

Foley played V1sion like a puppet and came away with the big victory tonight!



The voice of Jackson Cade greets us.

“23:48. Slums. Perseus responding to a B&E.”


Jackson Cade rushes through the splintered door, his eyes scanning the room as he effortlessly yells a warning out into the darkness.

“These calls have gotten more frequent. I’d recognize the despair in the voice of the man who called this in anywhere.”

One of the many locals of the Slums rushes Cade, screaming incoherently. Something about a yellow monster and a sword.

“Something horrible happened here, and every damn time someone talks about the yellow monster with the sword.”

Using the butt of his rifle, Cade knocks the local out.

“The Slums have their fair share of break-ins, but these are different.”

After checking for a pulse to ensure the local is alive, Jackson continues into the dank hallway before him.

“This monster’s human. I know it.”

Each step seems to ratchet up the Eagle Unit rookie’s unease. Something is lurking behind the closed door at the end of the hallway.

As Cade reaches the closed door, he steps back to kick it down but thinks better of it. Reaching out, he tries the knob.


“Even though I know what I’ll find, it shocks me every time.”

Beyond the door, Jackson Cade’s mouth drops agape.


Blood everywhere.

Crushed and sliced bones litter the ground. Entrails hang from the ceiling.

But at the center of it all sits the severed head of a woman. Her hair cascades down, meeting with a river of skin surrounding a pool of blood.

If it weren’t a dead body, it’d be beautiful.

“The first time I saw one of these pieces of ‘art’ I vomited. The second time, I just got angry.”

As if out of nowhere, the local is back! He rushes Cade, pushing him up against the wall, screaming once more. Perseus wastes no time in whipped the man around and cuffing him.

“This time, I’m determined.”

Hauling off his attacked, Cade looks back at the ‘art’ on display.

“Determined to find this yellow monster and put an end to his crimes.”

   death row   

The Slums. 

Steeped in the pungent smell of despair and brutality, there’s a portion of the slums kept to one side. It’s here the prisoners of Death Row reside. Whilst awaiting their eventual execution, these prisoners are locked inside cages, monitored, and evaluated by a man they only know as The Red Hood.

The Red Hood rations their food. He controls their daily activities. It doesn’t matter why they’re here or what they did – they eat, drink, sleep and piss when he says so.

And down here in The Slums…

Things aren’t peachy.

Whilst Old School Wrestling bustles under the bright lights of Olympus, those down here could never dream of affording a ticket – or find themselves behind bars, awaiting death.

For years before OSW ever begun, entertainment in the slums went by its own name and did its own thing.

As the cell mates of Death Row, every single one dreams of a reprieve.

Which many years ago, gave The Red Hood an idea.

What if he could commute their sentence?

What if they could leave Death Row and begin a life for themselves?

What if he could exploit every single one of them for his own benefit?

And thus, Death Row Wrestling was born.

Those trapped behind bars down here have a choice. They can rot until Zeus remembers their time to die is now, or they can fight one another in hopes that the very best of them will be made free.

This is their story.



The first night in OSW for either man and they’re closer than they want to be as they have a four corner’s match! A strap is put on either man and the match begins!

The Burned Man locks up with Muerte to start us off and downs him with a vicious clothesline! The Mariachi gets up only to receive another massive clothesline that drops him! The Burned Man goes to the first corner and taps it but The Musician pulls back on his strap!

THE LAST CARNIVALE! SPRINGBOARD LUNGBLOWER! He rolls through and stands above The Burned Man before laying into him with a flurry of kicks that keep shim down! El Mariachi Muerte moves from corner to corner quickly! He taps one! Two! Three- BACKDRAFT! SPINNING BACK ELBOW TO THE SKULL! MUERTE HITS THE TURNBUCKLE!

Singing Death is in dire straits as TBM grabs his head and slams his face against the turnbuckle over and over! Muerte tries to block the blows to no avail when he wraps the strap overhead! He catches The Mummy and pulls him in! SPRINGBOARDING! STRAP ASSISTED STUNNER!

The Mummy is on wobbly knees as he bounces up from the stunner! Muerte turns around and swings with a massive clothesline! The Burned Man stumbles back and Muerte hauls him up! FADE TO BLACK! PACKAGE PILEDRIVER! The Burned Man is out as Singing Death moves from corner to corner while dragging TBM behind him! One! Two! Three! Four!

El Mariachi Muerte just sang The Burned Man a death ballad here tonight as he claims his first victory in OSW!



Welcome to the Ol’ Factory.

A labyrinth of pipes, gears, and other machinery, pumping out treats of all shapes and sizes.

Who can take the finest ingredients, and make such delights?

The Candy Man Can.

Overseeing the operation of the factory, Teddy O’Toole smiles at the latest batch of O’Toole Bars passing by, on route to be delivered throughout Arcadia.

So, what fantastical flavor will Teddy O’Toole think of next?

It’s precisely the question the Candy Man has been pondering himself, as he turns his attention to a clipboard on the desk beside him, taking a look at a list written down with a stroke of his chin before smiling.


He grabs a nearby pen, circling something on his list as he chuckles to himself.

“My next brilliant recipe needs just the right ingredient, and this root of ambrosia is sure to do the trick!”

Teddy brings the pen to his chin, tapping it as he ponders his next steps.

“There is only one place the root is grown, down a level or two…but the journey there and back can be treacherous, and I dare not go it alone. Who will accompany me?”

He looks around the floor of the factory, debating whether to risk any of his workers for such a trip…when a flash on a nearby monitor seems to give Teddy the answer he seeks.

Teddy looks over to watch a stranger traveling along the outskirts of the level on which the Factory was built. Walking along the cobblestone roads that shipment workers walk to deliver their boxes of treats is an odd-looking fellow to the eye of the Candy Man.


The sight of this Explorer brings another smile to the face of O’Toole.

“Perfect! He will do just fine.”

With that, he makes haste to exit the factory, heading down that road to intercept the Pilgrim…only for the Candy Man to be stopped in his tracks by a loud bark, a noise that alarms O’Toole until Drewitt calls to the canine companion.

“Come, Colt! That’ll do it.”

The dog returns to the traveller, who glares up and down the figure of O’Toole with little sign of emotion from behind the mask…but an attitude of uncertainty that exudes from his body language.

“What’d you want from me, O’Toole? I’m just passin’ through.”

The recognition from Drewitt just brings a grin back to the face of the Candy Man before he replies.

“Well, sir, it just so happens that I’m heading down a level or two, and need a helping hand collecting some ingredients for my treats.”

This is met with a silent glare from Drewitt, for what feels like an eternity before he shakes his head.

“No can do, bud. I’m on my way up, already been through that mess down a ways. Bit much for me and Colt here to deal with again.”

Before the traveller can step away, he is stopped with a raised hand by O’Toole…who quickly pulls a satchel out of his coat pocket, revealing a glint of silver to Drewitt as the Candy Man smiles once more.

“Ah, but I imagine this can score you some serious credits, can it not? Consider this a down payment, I can pay you more handsomely upon my return to the Factory with what I need.”

Drewitt looks at the satchel, his reaction unclear at first until he looks to Colt, who just gives a toothy smile as only a dog can…and the Explorer nods with a sigh.

“Alright, O’Toole, you’ve got yourself a deal. Let’s make this quick, I wanna be back on the road up as quick as I can.”

Teddy nods in acknowledgement as the pair turn around, Colt leading the way as they walk down the road, ready for a rough journey ahead of them.




One must rise to gain a chance to ascend! Shall Grimskull claw his way to victory? Or will Narcissa be able to come out on top?

Grimskull rushes Narcissa but the designer ducks and weaves his blows! She hits a leaping knee to the jaw before sliding between his legs and nailing a spinning elbow to the lower back! Grimskull stumbles forwards and Narcissa dropkicks him out of the ring! THE PREACHER CAREENS INTO A LADDER!

The Designer hits the ropes and dives over the top rope! AND RIGHT INTO A LESSON! SUPERKICK BY GRIMSKULL! Ms. Balanciaga hits the ground with a breathtaking thud and Grimskull grabs the nearest ladder to throw into the ring! He sets it up in the center of the ring and begins his climb!

The Martyr is nearing the top! He reaches out! SPRINGBOARD BY NARCISSA! THE DESIGNER LEAPS FROM THE ROPES ONTO GRIMSKULL’S BACK! Both Titans fight it out as Narcissa claws at Grimskull! The Preacher leaps off of the ladder! MODIFIED MARTYR! CANNONBALL FLIP! NARCISSA IS CRUSHED INTO THE MAT!

Neither combatant is moving for a moment before both begin to stir! They crawl up either side of the ladder to the top! Both of them reach the peak at the same time! AND GRIMSKULL LASHES OUT! MASSIVE HEADBUTT TO THE SKULL! NARCISSA TUMBLES TO THE CANVAS! THE PREACHER REACHES UP AND GRABS THE PRIZE!

Grimskull has risen to the top! Despite Narcissa’s aggression he’s claimed his spot in the world title match!



Angry shouting is heard from within the Blood Runners compound. General mayhem is ensuing within. Blood Runners scurry to the perimeter fence, where a pint-sized hole has been cut.

“They’ve gotten in!”

Voices relay the message. Not voices filled with panic, but frustration and annoyance. Clearly, this is somewhat a regular occurrence.

Inside the compound, a row of human skulls leads to a platform made out of human bone. Atop that platform, sitting in somewhat of a skull throne is a single figure taking in the scenes before him. He stands, sniffing at the air and holding his hands up. Instantly, the activity within the compound grinds to a halt. All eyes look upon Blacktooth.

He reaches out to his side, claiming a femur bone that sits at his side and slams it into a large gong at the front of the platform.

“Blood Runners, ring the dinner bell…”

He sniffs at the air again, smiling with his sharpened teeth.

“It’s snack time.”

He cracks his knuckles and begins to descend from the platform.

“Those pesky Lucky Charms have decided to pay us yet another visit. Looking for our gold again, no doubt. They’re hardly a mouthful between them, but I’m feeling a little peckish.”

His somewhat playful demeanour changes almost instantly as a gleam forms in his eye.

“Find them and drag their carcasses here. I’ve got a spot for a few little skulls.”

What the Blood Runners do not see is the movement around the perimeter. Two leprechauns, carrying a treasure chest between them, scurry towards the front gate. Knick Knack points with his free hand towards the front gate, while Tallywhack takes a swig from his whiskey bottle, that he then balances precariously back atop the treasure chest.

It is the sound of giggling, coupled with the alarm of the front gate opening that alerts the Blood Runners. Blacktooth looks almost lost for words, his treasure seemingly almost escaping before his very nose.


His voice bellows out over the compound, but the Lucky Charms are already halfway out the gate. Tallywhack extends a farewell middle finger to the pursuing Blood Runners, but his whiskey bottle slips off the top of the treasure chest and smashes upon the ground.

Knick Knack turns to hurry his brother along, noticing the saddened look on Tally’s face.

“What? We got the ruddy gold.”

“Me feckin’ whiskey. It’s … gone!”

Tally’s eyes almost well up, but Knick Knack yanks him forward. With a horde of Blood Runners pursuing them, they scurry with their prize out of the compound and into the hustle and bustle of the slums around it.

Then, the Lucky Charms are gone. Blacktooth, angered at being fooled yet again by the Lucky Charms, swings a hatchet about his head, cleaving a poor passer-by’s head right from the body in a single strike. His voice rings out over the slums.

“Get my fucking treasure back.”



In the Guardians Hall, there’s a long pristine white corridor in which numerous chairs reside. Many citizens of Arcadia are sat in these chairs, but we pay attention to just one in particular.

He’s not sat in his chair like everyone else – alone and terrified. He’s surrounded by puppets.

It’s Felix Foley. 

“Felix Foley to room number 3B, please. That’s Felix Foley to Room 3B.”

A voice over the intercom lets us know it’s time for Felix, who gathers up his puppets and heads to the room 3B. He’s dressed in his finest suit, which is a little creased and worse for wear. With a knock on the door, he’s greeted to enter by a weaselly voice and does so, taking a seat.

Opposite him is a bespectacled gentleman, who sits browsing through a file with a stern disgusted look upon his face.

“Hi, I’m Felix. Who might you be, sir?”

The man picks up his name plate which reads Damien Wolfe and slams it down rudely on the table.

“So, you’re making an application to bring back Foley’s Funhouse,” Damien says with a snarl – unimpressed. Felix nods enthusiastically.

“This guy ain’t gonna give us shit, Felix,” a voice suddenly blurts out.

Damien looks awkwardly at Foley, who shuffles in his seat and tries to smile through the awkwardness.

“Just punch him in his four fucking eyes,” the voice says again.

“Do you have a problem, Mr. Foley?” Wolfe says, looking over his glasses. “You are aware that any violence in Guardian Hall is an immediate conviction under article 2490 of the behavioural code, are you not?”

The Puppetmaster nods carefully.

“I’m sorry Mr. Wolfe,” he admits earnestly. “I’m afraid that Old Man Bertie is a little ordinary. He’s getting to that time in his life where…”

Old Man Bertie!?” Wolfe scoffs. “I don’t know what kind of games you’re playing here, Mr. Foley, but we take applications and processing very seriously here at Guardian Hall. If this is some kind of joke to you, then we’ll cancel your application post-haste.”

“I’m, uh, thinking that uh, you need to uhm, give Mr. Foley a chance to uh, answer your uh questions, first. Article, uh, 372 of the, uh, applications code.”

Damien Wolfe immediately stops what he’s doing and looks at Felix. The disgust in his eyes is only worsened by the pursing of his lips.

“What the?” He says, straightening out his glasses. “What is that and WHY does it look like me?”

Felix looks at his puppet, Conservator Wolfe, who’s quite literally a wolf in a suit with glasses.

“I have a perfectly valid reason for this,” he says, pleading frantically.

“Enough!” Damien interrupts. “Your little conservator Wolf may know article 372, but he clearly isn’t aware of article 372 appendix m, in which states; ‘Application and Processing agents have the right, if in seniority, to cancel applications at any stage.”

“Please, don’t do that,” Foley begs. “This is just a misunderstanding, I can assure you.”

“It’s too late, Mr. Foley. Take your disgusting little puppets and get out of my office; we’re done here.”

Felix carefully gets up, gathering all his puppets and exiting out into the hall, watching as Damien Wolfe slams the door violently behind him.

“Told ya you should’ve punched that little cuck in his man-tits,” Old Man Bertie blurts out. “You can’t fuck him up here in Pussy Hall, but drag his ass into Olympus and you can beat the snivling shits out of him.”

Foley lowers his head shamefully, walking away.

“Not everything needs to be solved with violence,” he reminds Old Man Bertie. “But perhaps you’re right on this one.”




Is The Vulture ready for his big photo shoot with Colt Ramsey tonight?

Tie up collar and elbow. Colt transitions to a side headlock, then the Vulture starts feeling Colt up until he loosens his grip allowing Vulture to scoop him off the canvas and fallaway slam him— LEXIS!! Colt picks himself up in the corner while Vulture blows a kiss at him as a taunt…

Vulture rushes Colt— MYTHOS!! THE RUNNING CORNER SPLASH CONNECTS!! Vulture climbs atop the second turnbuckle and punches Colt nine times before posing for the crowd and bowing… affording Colt just enough time to slip out and crotch Vulture on the middle buckle! Vulture winces in pain!

Colt wraps Vulture’s head from behind and swings backwards— REVERSE DDT OFF THE ROPES!! THAT’S A WRAP!! Colt looks to continue his momentum by rolling forward in a somersault at the rising Vulture— B-ROLL?? NO!! Vulture counters the cutter, catching Colt and slowly, dramatically locking up the side of his face!

Colt elbows Vulture hard in the face, and pulls a camera out of his pocket as Vulture turns… He takes a flash picture that blinds Vulture— GUT KICK! DDT!! SAY CHEESE!! Vulture struggles to find his footing as Colt locks in a full nelson from behind— LEGSWEEP FACEBUSTER!!! FIT TO PRINT!!! Cover— ONE! TWO!! THREE!!!

Ramsey made the Thespian a star tonight, printing him as his centerfold in a big victory!



The Doom Factory.

Owner? One Stubbins Doom. We see a plethora of medical equipment, machines, and brains in jars across the walls in this large floor, Doom himself examining one such jar as he speaks to an unseen figure. “So, you cannot feel pain, can you? I’ve always thought of disconnecting nerves! But none ever survived! But you? You have no nerves left… I need to study you.” The scene shifts, spinning to reveal The Burned Man, Aracadia’s mummy, chained  to an upright operating table.

“You’ll find nothing but burnt flesh.” The mummy speaks with a ragged voice, struggling against his restraints only to fail to break out of them. He lets out a weary sigh, looking back to Doom. “Get on with it, then.”

Doom chuckles, standing up and placing his jar down. “Gladly.”


Stubbins whips around to see The Kingdomblade flying towards his face! It’s Destructo Boy! The flat of the blade cracks against his face and sends him reeling back onto the floor in agony! He rises up immediately with the use of his hover boots, eyeing the young hero with disdain.

“How dare you! Drones!” Doom presses a button on his gauntlet, a series of drones flying into the lab! They fire small rockets that Destructo Boy blocks with his blade! Doom, meanwhile, makes his escape, hovering away towards an unseen exit! Destructo Boy, meanwhile, smacks the drones out of the air, narrowly avoiding any serious harm as he goes to the operating table.

“Are you okay, sir?” He looks at The Burned Man with concern, undoing the restraints. The Mummy, however, is silent. He looks at Destructo Boy for perhaps way too long, sitting in silence as he steps away from the table and adjusts his bandages. The Hero sits uncomfortably for a few moments, speaking again. “Sir?”

“You’re just a child.” The Burned Man speaks bluntly in his ragged voice. “That man will kill you.”

“No, he won’t.” Destructo Boy speaks back in slight annoyance. “I may be small but I’m a hero. You don’t have to thank me.”

The Burned Man looks at the wouldbe hero for a bit longer, nodding his head. “I suppose I don’t. But I would recommend you find another battle to fight.” With those words, The Mummy begins to leave, Destructo Boy not attempting to stop him, instead taking time to examine the drones he trashed as the scene fades out.



Nestled in amongst the canalways and flowers of the level of Arcadia known as Xochimilco sits a small wooden structure. The small building isn’t quite a house, but it’s not quite anything else either. Inside, there is minimal furniture, and the only light comes from the candles scattered around a small stage or altar that sits against the far wall.

On that stage stands a man clothed all in black, with a wide brimmed hat and a face painted in the style of a sugar skull. An ornate dark wood guitar hangs from his shoulder strap. He begins to pluck the strings rhythmically, the music dancing around the building with a sombre tone.

It’s El Mariachi Muerte, and he begins to sing to his plucked accompaniment in Spanish.

“A donde irá veloz y fatigada
La golondrina que de aquí se va
O si en el cielo,
Se hallará extraviada buscando abrigo y no lo encontrará
Junto a mi lecho hara su nido
A donde pueda la estacion pasar.
También yo estoy en la región
Perdida ¡Oh cielo santo! adiós adiós adiós.”

Singing Death continues to play the guitar, the serenity of Xochimilco unbroken as he does. Now he sings the song in English.

“Where it will go fast and weary.
The swallow that departs from here,
Or if in heaven,
It will be lost in search of shelter and will not find it
Next to my bed it will make it’s nest
Where the season can pass.
I am also in that place.
Lost. Oh holy sky! Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.”

He bows his head as the last notes ring out, and then leaves the stage, and the building.

As he leaves, the imposing, metallic beak of Dr. Death pokes out from behind a support beam. His face covered by the mask, it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, but his body language suggests he’s not in the best of moods, having witnessed the sombre song of Cantando la Muerte.



   jackson cade VS. damien wolfe   

A clash of law and order awaits us in a deathmatch worthy of Ares, as Jackson Cade takes on Damien Wolfe for the right to be the 5th Olympian entered into Mount Olympus!

We start things off with Jackson showing his prowess with some well-placed kicks on Wolfe, opting not to make use of the weapons at his disposal in this deathmatch environment…but Wolfe quickly makes him rethink this, taking Cade down with an arm drag that sends him hard onto the canvas!

Wolfe smirks as he grabs a steel chair, ready to take a swing at Specialist Cade…who dodges it, kicking Wolfe in the gut before hitting a DDT, sending the Conservator headfirst onto the steel chair! The crowd roars in approval…but Wolfe wisely rolls out of ring, falling to the floor!

Wolfe slowly gets to a knee, his forehead busted open after that DDT as he reaches for a nearby weapon…a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire! Cade glares the lawyer down, telling Wolfe to try his luck in the ring. Wolfe obliges with a wicked grin, sliding into the ring.

He stands to attention before taking a wide swing with the bat…but Cade ducks it, driving Wolfe to the canvas with a sling blade, sending Wolfe onto the chair once again! BREACH AND CLEAR! Wolfe slowly rises…only to take a leaping superkick! HOSTILE DOWN, AND CADE COVERS! ONE! TWO! THREE!

Specialist Cade shows his upstanding ways even in the chaos of a deathmatch, picking up a win over Damien Wolfe and earning his place in Mount Olympus!



The voice of Jasper Redgrave greets us, as we see the same sights we saw earlier with Jackson Cade.

“11:45 PM. The little Eagle leaves his nest.”


Jackson Cade rushes through the splintered door, his eyes scanning the room as he effortlessly yells a warning out into the darkness.

“He’s just a boy. Unspoilt. Pure.”

One of the many locals of the Slums rushes Cade, screaming incoherently. Something about a yellow monster and a sword.

“Yet too foolish to listen to those who could guide him. He only sees what he wants to see.”

Using the butt of his rifle, Cade knocks the local out.

“Officer Cade hears a call, he sees a victim, and he touches the criminal. But until he uses all his senses, he’ll never find what he seeks.”

After checking for a pulse to ensure the local is alive, Jackson continues into the dank hallway before him.

“Justice is a noble concept, but men like this little Eagle fear what they do not understand.”

Each step seems to ratchet up the Eagle Unit rookie’s unease. Something is lurking behind the closed door at the end of the hallway.

As Cade reaches the closed door, he steps back to kick it down but thinks better of it. Reaching out, he tries the knob.


“Art is beyond the minds of those who do not use all their senses.”

Beyond the door, Jackson Cade’s mouth drops agape.


Blood everywhere.

Crushed and sliced bones litter the ground. Entrails hang from the ceiling.

But at the center of it all sits the severed head of a woman. Her hair cascades down, meeting with a river of skin surrounding a pool of blood.

If it weren’t a dead body, it’d be beautiful.

“The sights of the red river. The sound of her screams. The feeling of her heart beating its last. The taste of a misplaced droplet of blood. The smell of death. My art is only for those enlightened enough to understand it.”

As if out of nowhere, the local is back! He rushes Cade, pushing him up against the wall, screaming once more. Perseus wastes no time in whipped the man around and cuffing him.

“Once again, the little Eagle disappoints me. But the time approaches when he will learn what art truly is. Naïve enough to believe in justice, but real enough to see it’s not enough..”

Hauling off his attacked, Cade looks back at the ‘art’ on display.

“Soon, my little Eagle will come to a new nest, and he will learn what art truly is.”


The Slums.

We follow a small weaselly snivelling fellow with a hunchback as he trundles through a dirty hallway to a small office in the back. He’s being followed by a man in an old style boxing outfit, wearing gloves.

When they finally reach their destination, they stop at a wooden desk, in which we get our first glimpse of The Red Hood, who sits behind it.

“I got ‘im fer ya,” the hunchback fellow squeals.

“Thank you Smee,” A deep altered voice replies. “Butch, isn’t it?”

“What do you want?” Butch says, looking around nervously. “I’ve been keeping myself to myself. I don’t want any trouble.”

The Red Hood laughs.

“Trouble always finds you, Butch, you know that,” he replies with a chuckle.

There’s an eerie silence.

“Have you heard of Deathrow Wrestling?” He enquires. “It’s been my baby for years. A new round begins soon and I always choose someone I believe in to be my prized fighter. I’ve seen how you’ve handled yourself in lock up and colour me impressed.”

Butch shrugs his shoulders, looking at his boxing gloves.

“Hence the gift?” He asks looking at them in front of him.

The Red Hood nods.

“As fighters join Deathrow for a chance at freedom, we’ll slowly but surely gather a roster of 8 that’ll result in one going free,” he muses. “Six months of fighting, of bloodletting and bloodshed, and the winner will walk amongst Arcadia a free person once again.”

Butch thinks about it for a moment.

“What’s the catch?” He wisely asks. “There’s always a fucking catch, man.”

The Red Hood doesn’t say anything.

“Do yew wanna go free or nawt?” Smee squeaks at him.

“I do, I do,” Butch assures him. “But you’re not telling me the whole story, pal. What’s the fucking catch?”

“Everyone in Deathrow is on Deathrow, which means you’re looking at the criminally insane; murderers, rapists and the vilest of criminals your worst nightmares have ever seen. There’s not just winning or losing here, there’s death. You might not survive.”

Butch chuckles to himself.

“Oh, I’ll survive,” he says defiantly.

The Red Hood nods.

“Smee, put the sign up sheet in the cells, shall we?” He requests.

Smee gleefully nods, walking away.



   CAESAR XL vs. teddy o’toole   

Teddy O’Toole has messed with every kind of candy known to man! But can he handle someone as spicy as Caesar XL?

Caesar starts us off as he grabs at Teddy who  narrowly ducks that massive hand and hits the ropes! He springboards with a massive dropkick that staggers El Fuego! He hits the ropes again and springboards again with a chop block that puts Caesar to a knee! He leaps high and come crashing down with a massive elbow to the top of Caesar’s head!

But Papa Dinero refuses to go down!





Mr. XL lands with a massive thud and Teddy plays to the crowd! He hits the far ropes one more time as he flies through them to the outside!


The Candy Man has been sent to Candy Land and El Fuego is capitalizing as he picks Teddy up and hurls him through the steel steps! Teddy crashes to the ground and Caesar hauls him up one more time before dropping him with a terrifying powerbomb to the floor! Caesar looks pleased with himself as he wraps a big hand around the face of The Candy Man and lifts him up with ease!


The Candy Man looks ready to vomit from the onslaught he’s received as Caesar grabs him and wraps his hands around his throat! Teddy is holding his stomach in agony!



Caesar drops Teddy and is unable to stop him as he drops to the floor and rears back to strike with a massive blow to the groin! Teddy leaps up and plants him with a massive DDT! Caesar looks out and Teddy fights to turn him over! They’re outside the ring but that doesn’t matter in this mach!




Papa Dinero is fighting to get to his feet as Teddy looks to keep the odds on his side! He dives under the ring and looks frantically for a weapon and Caesar is already back on him! He grabs his legs and pulls him out from under the ring!



Caesar angrily whips Teddy back and forth trying to torment him before using his massive strength advantage to lift him right off of the ground! Teddy kicks his feet fearfully trying to regain some semblance of control before Caesar whips him headfirst into the corner of the ring! Teddy’s head bounces sickeningly off of the apron and Caesar looks satisfied with his carnage!

Grande Manos picks Teddy’s limp body off of the ground and holds him overhead before walking towards the crowd! He couldn’t be! He’s looking to throw Teddy into the crowd!





Blood pours down Caesar’s face and Teddy rears back to take another swing but drops the chair in exhaustion! He’s still trying to catch his breath after being choked out! He looks to the ring and slowly climbs the apron and up to the turnbuckle! He’s looking out at the crowd and raises his hands high before leaping!






Teddy has done it! The Candy Man CAN win his match tonight!



Somewhere Else.

In the deepest darkest depths of Arcadia, a floor resides that no-one else dare enter.

The Killing Floor.

Inside, Ace Lawton kneels on a blood stained floor with his hands cuffed behind his back and his mouth taped shut. He’s not alone, accompanied by Mick Gordon and Jackson Cade, who brought him here from the ring earlier.

Ares then enters, stomping powerfully towards Lawton. He stops short of the Detective, dropping to one knee to remove the tape around his mouth.

The Bodyguard looks up at Gordon.

“You can go,” he mutters sternly.

Gordon looks at Cade and nods – only Cade isn’t sure.

But uh-” Jackson says, immediately cut off by the glare of his Sheriff. He quickly stums and heads towards the door, both exiting to leave Ares and Lawton alone.

“Did you think we wouldn’t find you?” The Bodyguard asks with a snarl. He looks him up and down before standing and punching Ace square on the mouth.

The Detective spits the blood out, chuckling somewhat.

“I’m just a Detective, doll,” he remarks humorously.

“Just a detective, huh?” Ares responds angrily. “We hired from across Arcadia. When we offered you a contract, we expected you to reject us, but you didn’t.”

He pauses, shaking his head and walking around in circles.

“What could a private eye want fighting as a Titan?” Ares asks with a shrug. “Nothing, right? Nothing except inside.

“That’s your big theory?” Ace says, adjusting his neck by rolling it. “Why don’t you cut to the chase, bozo?”

The mountain of a Bodyguard walks back around to the front of Ace, now wielding a monstrous blade. He pulls Ace’s head to one side, placing it point down upon his neck. His neck muscles throb with the force in which they’re being manipulated.

“We already know you won’t tell us anything,” Ares says confidently. “So, I won’t even bother interrogating you.”

He pulls back on the blade, preparing to ram it into his neck.

Zeus will fall,” he says sternly, interrupting. “Viva la revolución.”

Ares shakes his head, stopping.

“You Uprising mother fuckers just don’t get it, do you?” He says with a sneer, angry. “Zeus will not fall. Olympus will not fall. Arcadia… will… not… fall.”

Ace laughs heartily.

“Olympus will be the first to fall,” he says dramatically. “That’s why I was here, hotshot.”

Without further adieu, Ares rams the blade into his neck, viciously and violently killing him. As blood spurts everywhere, Zeus comes barging into the room.

NO!” He screams – too late.

What?” Ares calmly asks, kicking Lawton off his blade.

“We just received this letter,” Zeus says, waving a brown piece of paper around. “It demands the safe return of Lawton, or Olympus will fall.”

Ares and Zeus both look down at the bloodied body of The Detective, who’s head barely hangs on from his neck.

“Shit,” Zeus says.